Chapter 1

Author's note:

For the convenience of all concerned who may happen to read this short novel, all dialog has been translated into modern English. So many dialects and languages were current at the time, that no other course seemed practical.

The conversation in the tavern was all about the strange man lying unconscious in a bed on the second floor. The most common question was, "Who is he?"

"I heard that he was found on the turnpike just west of town."

"Yes, that is true. He was naked and unconscious. He did not appear to be injured otherwise, so nobody knows what to make of him."

"Parson Jacobs wanted him cast out as not being a true Puritan, since he was naked."

"Parson Jacobs is a fathead! Any White man who had just escaped from the natives would most likely be naked, and he could be unconscious for any one of many reasons."

"Yes, that accursed King Phillip and his war have made life even more uncertain for us God fearing people in this year of our Lord, 1675. If the natives would only all retire to the "Praying Towns" like they should, all of this unpleasantness would go away!"

"Oh, but it is difficult to convince the heathens how much better off they would be if they learned to be good Puritans and Englishmen like us folk."

"That heathen King Phillip forbade all Christian missionaries from entering his territory, and that has made it hard to win converts. No man can convert another man to the truth if he cannot talk to him."

"That is true, but we do have allies among the heathen. The Mohegans are fighting on our side."

"Well, yes, I will concede that, but it is only because they are traditional enemies of the Pequots and the Narragansetts."

"Oh, come now, Master James. You have been my friend for years, and I know that you are in no way such a foolish man as to look a gift horse in the mouth!" That brought a general laugh, even joined by James, himself.

Upstairs, the stranger was making a slow return to consciousness. He finally was able to open his eyes, despite a monster of a headache. When he looked around, he first thought that he was on the set of a movie production, all of the furnishings and the construction of the room, itself, were so crude and so obviously hand made.

"Where the hell am I?" He asked himself, but he said it out loud in a voice louder than he really intended. That prompted a quick knock on the door and the entrance of a woman who looked like she could be at least a hundred years old, if she were a day! Furthermore, she was dressed in a very disreputable version of an ancient dress that he had not seen since his days in grammar school where the kids were taught about the first Thanksgiving.

"Are you decent?" was the first word he heard from the woman as she backed into the room. That was when he realized that he was naked under the crude woolen blanket.

"Yes, I think so. Please come in and tell me what is going on."

The woman came in and said, "You, Sir, were found on the highroad just this side of the turnpike. You were naked and unconscious. Some kindly passersby found you and brought you to Master John's tavern. He sent you to bed up here until you regained your senses, and I was assigned to look after you. My name is Mistress Esther, and what, pray tell, is your name?"

"I am Joseph Bell. I was walking down the street in Franklin as the last thing I remember. Something hit me a sharp blow on the back of my head, and the next thing I knew was waking up here. I have a terrible headache. Do you have something that I could take to relieve the pain? If so, I would greatly appreciate it."

"Certainly, Master Joseph. I'll be right back." With that, the old woman left the room, and Joe was left alone for a few minutes. When she returned, she had a small mug which she handed tho Joe. "Now, drink all of this, Master Joseph. It's willow bark tea, and it should help that headache."

"Thank you, Mistress Esther. Right now, I need all of the help that I can get. Can you tell me where I am? I mean, what town I am in?"

"This is not a town, Master Joseph. It is a stop along the turnpike between Springfield and Boston. Locally, it is called John's Crossroads. We are in the unincorporated area of the Massachusetts Bay Colony."

"Oh my God! Colony? What year is this?"

"It is the year of our Lord, 1675. And please watch your language or you will be spending time in the pillory! Parson Jacobs holds no truck with blasphemers!"

"Oh, I beg your pardon, Mistress Esther. I am very confused, probably as a result of that blow to my head. I will be very careful of my language in the future. Thank you for the caution."

"Your apology is accepted, Master Joseph. Do you think that you were attacked by the heathen natives? This war started by King Phillip has them stirred up against us. They seem to want us all to go back to England, but we can't do that!"

"There's more to this war than just having the Whites leave, but that is too complicated for me to talk about in my current state. I know that I cannot yet pay for it, but would it be possible for me to have something to eat? Suddenly, I am ravenously hungry."

"Master John is a generous man, Master Joseph. I am sure that he will be willing to feed you for now. I'll go see what I can find. It's almost time for supper, so something should be available shortly." Esther left, and Joe contemplated what he had learned so far. He was very quick witted, and he was an avid reader of science fiction. He was especially partial to time travel stories, so he was not so easily flummoxed by the notion of having traveled in time about 340 years.

He couldn't help laughing at the thought of what was going to happen when he failed to show up on base in three days. He was in the Army, stationed at Ft. Benning, where he taught close quarter combat. He was inordinately expert in knife fighting and all manner of martial arts. He also taught "stick fighting," a skill he was particular good at. As a corollary of all of this, he was particularly adept at sneaking through the bushes without being detected. His friends and co-instructors called him the "White Ghost."

Joe was originally from New England and had been visiting relatives in Franklin, MA, at the time of his "accident." He knew that they would be upset when he did not show up for supper, but there was nothing that he could do about that now.

Joe dozed while he waited for his supper to show up. About 20 minutes later, Mistress Esther showed up with some clothes for him to wear. "Here is the best I could do to find you some clothes, Master Joseph. You are so big and tall that fitting you properly is almost impossible. This is the largest outfit that we could find in the bin of abandoned clothes. I'm going now to fetch your supper. I'd appreciate it if you would try the clothes on while I'm gone."

The pants were barely big enough to get around Joe's waist, and they were about six inches too short. The shirt fit alright, he supposed, if he was careful about how quickly he moved. It was very tight across the shoulders, but would do in the present emergency. For shoes, he had been given some moccasins which fit better than he expected. His height of an even six feet and weight of 187 pounds were off-scale for the normal man of this day. Oh, well, he would have some custom clothes made as soon as he had a little money.

Joe was sitting on the side of his bed when Mistress Esther came back. She was carrying a tray of stew and a mug of the local beer. She set it in his lap before leaving. Joe found that the stew was surprisingly good, except for the fact that it was less salty than he was used to. Salt was tough to come by in this day and age, so he would just have to get used to the change in flavors. The beer was remarkably good, but very low on alcohol content. There probably was just enough alcohol to kill the germs, though the locals didn't know that was what they were doing.